Extrapolated
by thisdayandage
Summary: The Doctor's behaviour seems unusual to Donna. Even more than usual. After a seemingly trouble-free trip, The Doctor is ready for an early bedtime. Is there more going on with him than meets the eye? Set sometime after 'The Doctor's Daughter'. Doctor!Whump
1. Sleepy Head

"Wasn't that brilliant!" The Doctor squeaked. He and Donna had just return from Lehium, a planet, of which the air is composed largely of helium. They had enjoyed a great many floating activities and humoured themselves with squeaky voices. Donna held a souvenir balloon in her hand. As a child, her Dad often took her to fairgrounds and always he would treat her to a balloon. She had a fondness for them. This balloon was different however, in that it was set to change its form, from various native animals. Every while or so, it contorted and knotted itself into the shape of yet another strange creature. Right now, it was assuming the shape of a bird - except, birds did not evolve in quite the same way on Lehium as on Earth. For a start, it had no wings. It resembled closer to a two-legged platypus, with its very large beak. It floated along behind her, bouncing off the door frame, as she entered the TARDIS.

"Molto Bene!" Donna repeated one for the Doctor's favourite phrases. They both shared a giggle at how Italian sounded in such a squeaky voice. Donna wondered if they should perhaps visit Rome next. The Doctor never took her there and she could see if the TARDIS would translate or not, if she spoke the words there, or she would be fobbed of as sounding 'Celtic', like when she had tried speaking some Latin that her Gramps taught her, to that rude man in Pompeii.

She waited for the Doctor to ask her "Well, where to next?" as he usually did between each adventure. She thought it odd, when he instead bid her goodnight and turned for the corridor.

"Goodnight?" Donna was sounding less squeaky now and a touch concerned. She had not noticed he was tiring. She wasn't sure she had ever known him to actually need sleep. Maybe he was getting on that high Time Lord horse of his again, and thinking how humans were so much less resilient than him and struggled to go long without rest.

"Oi, I'm not ready for bed yet, Doctor! Let's go somewhere else, please?"

"Yeah, you might not be, but I am. Why don't you have a swim in the library, or something? I need some shut-eye."

Now that was weird. He had never confessed to needing sleep, as long as she had known him. Maybe that was how Time Lords worked though. They went for ages on empty and then hibernated, or something.

"Alright, Spaceman, if you insist. I might just get in the spa instead though. I could use a soak. That was quite the work out in the upside-down caves today."

"Okay, Donna," he nodded to her and smiled his appreciation that Donna realised he did need a rest. "Thank you."

"Go, get your beauty sleep then, you great prawn. I guess that's how you keep up looking how you do and the ripe old age of nine hundred and whatever."

The Doctor let out a chuckle, as they strolled through the hallway. Companion and Time Lord went their separate ways at the next T-junction. The Doctor heading for what Donna assumed was his bedroom, though he had never mentioned having one and she had certainly never seen it. She supposed he must have one though. It would be silly of him, not to really. She wondered if it were anything like her own, aboard the TARDIS. She had a four-poster bed fit for a queen and her own extensive wardrobe. It was in there, that she fished out a bathing-suit she had acquired on that beach she couldn't remember the name of on some planet she could not pronounce. It was a halter-neck style and very flattering on her, she had found and just her colour too. She had no idea how long a Time Lord needed to sleep for, but she made no rush of getting changed and sourcing a magazine from her drawers. It was one of a stack she had picked up the last time she visited Earth. It was humbling to catch up on a bit of the gossip back home every once in a while.

The library was fairly enormous. Shelves loomed high, with ladders that could be pushed from one end of the room to the other. There were stories above her, with shelves more, stuffed with texts both old and new. She bypassed them all, for the centre of the library, where the pool was for some reason. She was more concerned with the spa next to it though. Making sure her towel wasn't too far away, she dipped into just the right temperate of water. There was a railing by the steps and she tied her beloved balloon to it. A convenient bar fridge produced for her a refreshing juice. She couldn't tell what sort of fruit(s) it was made of, but it was tasty none the less. For the next while she thought nothing except Bradgelina's latest adoption and the few atrocious garments that some A-listers dared the red carpet with recently.

Eventually she decided that she would not be able to remain in the water for much longer, without resembling a prune. Towelling off, she dared not fathom what The Doctor would think, if she dripped all over the collected works of Charles Dickens on her way back through his library. Silly place for a pool really though, being so close to so much paper. Where on Earth, or Gallifrey or wherever did he get these ideas? Having gathered her things up, with the intention of heading back to her room for a while and then perhaps getting something to eat, she was soon walking the corridor once more.

The TAARDIS was strange. She tended to move corridors and rooms around, which got annoying at the best of times. The Doctor didn't exactly maintain a good level of heating about his ship, however. And she was in her bathing suit! She brushed off a shiver and tried to focus on any distinguishing features of where she was at present, but it looked no different than any other corridor. She hadn't even seen any doors for a while. She decided that the next door, she came across, no matter what, she was just going to enter, because this was getting ridiculous. She must have been ages away from even the console room by now! And there one was . This door was ordinary looking enough for a door in a time machine. No handle though. Instead a big old wheel, like on a submarine hatch. She found it quite stiff and even wrapped her towel around her hands, for extra leverage. It did budge once she put a bit of muscle in, letting out a sigh as she pried it agape and entered. The room seemed, at first, pitch black. As her eyes adjusted, pin pricks of light became visible and sparkled like tiny stars, which floated about like dust. Stardust, she mused and moved forward, where there was a dark shape. There was a humming sound resonating from somewhere near. Not an annoying hum, but a soothing one, like some strange world's gentle lullaby. The song was disturbed though by a low growling sound in front of her. Pushing fear aside, she continued forward and yelped as her shin collided with something hard.

The lights came up to reveal The Doctor, clad in some pinstriped pyjamas, not unlike his suit.

"Donna? What are you doing?"

"Ouch. Didn't see the bed frame. I can't believe it's you!"

Donna took in the room around her. It was quite peaceful really. The tiny stars had blinked out of sight to be replaced by an orange sort of misty cloud. Silver metal trees bent to form shelves around the balls, bearing books and alien paraphernalia and trinkets.

"Huh? Who else would it be. This is my room!"

"I thought it must have been some animal growling in here. But it was just your snoring!"

The Doctor looked sheepish, but admonished, "Time Lords do not snore."

"Tell that to whatever animal you're keeping under the bed then." Donna sat down and snatched at some of the bed covers to cover her chilled body.

The Doctor harrumphed. "Well, I'm up now. Might as well have another trip somewhere, eh?. Where to next?"

He disappeared behind a screen, coming out the other side, fully clothed for their next adventure.

"My room," Donna chided. "I've lost it again and I need to change out of my swim wear."

"Oh, The TARDIS has probably rotated everything again. It'll take ages to find. How about you just get something from the main wardrobe and I'll meet you in the console room?"

"Fine, but later? You are finding my room for me again, Mister."

"Sure thing!" And he bounced away like Tigger.

Once Donna had simple jeans and a dress top on, with a cardigan and boots, with her hair re-done, she saw herself ready for whatever lay ahead. She deposited her towel and mag on a table, but brought with her, the balloon - now, having taken the form of some kind of bear-like creature. Probably whatever The Doctor thought must have been growling instead of him. She couldn't believe she'd witnessed the Martian light out and snoring. If the Sontarans could see him like that! Ha!

"Okay, I'm ready." Donna made her presence known, upon entering the ship's main hub. But The Doctor was nowhere in sight. Maybe he already gotten ahead of her and gone out the front door on his own? The nerve of him! But then again, wouldn't she have felt the TARDIS in flight? Or else she would have been rocking and rolling all over the place, just trying to get changed. She did make her way to the door though and gasped, her Lehium helium form-changing balloon animal floated up into the ceiling, getting tangled in the rafters. Though her balloon may have escaped her grip, she dared not fret about it, when there were more pressing matters at hand. Namely, a certain lanky Time Lord, tangled in his own limbs, as he lay, in an unconscious heap at her feet.


	2. Wake Up

Donna knew he was unconscious and not dead, because she could see how his chest would rise and fall in the steady rhythm of his breathing. Kneeling down next to him, she attempted to straighten him out and cupped his face.

"Doctor?" she called to him. When he refused to so much as stir, Donna grew worried, but she was not about to let that show. "Now is not the time to have a kip on the floor. You better wake up right now, or I am going to start poking you."

Still no response from the fallen Time Lord, she prepared her poking finger, pressing into his arm a few times. "Come on, Doctor?"

She prodded him quite harshly in the gut this time, which finally initiated a response.

"Oof!"

"Good, you're awake. What were you asleep on the floor for, then?"

"I, um.." The Doctor looked around, seemingly just as baffled. "I don't know." He moved to get up. "That's weird."

"You're telling me."

Many a time, The Doctor had found himself waken from the floor, though usually it was because some enemy had knocked him so. He had no enemies on the TARDIS. He had himself a decent sleep, having found himself unusually tired. Normally he was fine with catching a power nap every week or so - usually on the chair in the console room. He barely even used his bedroom, unless he was unwell. Was that it? Was he getting ill? Perhaps his old age was finally catching up with him? Not that he was considered old for a Time Lord. Each regeneration should last for a good thousand years or so. In a Time Lord's eye, The Doctor was considered incredibly reckless, burning through bodies in no time at all. He had thought he was being sensible, going to bed a dozing off the fatigue. He awoke perfectly rearing to go again. Maybe the fatigue had washed over him again suddenly?

"Think I might check the surveillance mode on the scanner." Brainy-specs in place, The Doctor programmed his device so that it displayed the footage from the last half hour, fast-forwarding it to the point where he entered the console room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, as the video played out. The Doctor on the screen was simply setting co-ordinates as usual. Donna giggled as she watched him stroke bits of the TARDIS, as he waited for his companion to get dressed.

"What?" The Doctor employed at her amusement.

"Nothing," Donna feigned innocence.

And they both turned back to the scanner to watch as the footage showed, The Doctor beginning to sway on his feet and thud to the ground.

"Odd," commented The Doctor, rubbing his chin. Moments later, The image of Donna came in, finding him and poking him. The Doctor looked at his companion, perturbed by her actions. "Donna?"

"What else was I supposed to do? You wouldn't wake up."

The Doctor just shook his head at her, not knowing what else to say and switched the footage off, having caught up to real time.

"You're not going to keel over again, are you?" Donna wanted to know.

"Why?"

"You've still got to find my room for me. And I need you to get that down." She pointed up to where her balloon had lodged itself, in the ceiling.

"Very well, I'll fetch a ladder." From one of the compartments, beneath the floor panels, The Doctor did indeed produce a ladder. To Donna however, it did not seem nearly long enough. That was until he pulled a level on the side, and the entire thing stretched, growing extra rungs. Propping it against the console, The Doctor started to clamber up.

'Hang on? Do you need me to hold it for you?" It didn't seem all to stable to Donna.

"Nah," he reasoned. "Internal stabilisers reinforce it to prevent accidents. Got this thing, special, from the Health and Safety Department on Juthroplure." His voice trailed off and up into the ceiling, as he rambled on about how he prevented an invasion of blob creatures to the city's infrastructure that day, or something, while trying to dislodge Donna's toy.

He came back down, balloon string in his mouth, so he could use both hands to steady himself. A stable ladder was only half important, if you weren't going to take proper measures to stabilise yourself. That didn't stop Donna from whining that she would have his spit on her balloon string now. Putting the ladder away, he checked his scanner again, to see if it would show him where Donna's room had turned up. "She's being stubborn," he complained after a few minutes and banged the the screen with the flat of his hand. We'll have to find it on our own. He was turning away and toward the direction of the corridor, when the room seemed to distort around him and he collided with the ground.

'Doctor!" Donna cried, going to him. "Not again." The Doctor was out for the count. "Why does this keep happening?" Though, she supposed, it was probably better it happen now, than if he'd been all the way up there. She looked to where he'd been retrieving her balloon a moment earlier. That would have been a nasty fall. This narcolepsy he seemed to have developed was turning out to be more dangerous than she initially considered.

A rush of water brought The Doctor to his senses. He spat out a mouthful and open his eyes, to reveal his red-headed companion, armed with an empty cup. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"You didn't like me poking you." Donna argued, as The Doctor pushed a hand through his soaking hair.

"I fell asleep again." It wasn't a question. The Doctor could jump to that conclusion easily. He stared up at the ceiling, seemingly to think along the same lines as Donna had previously. He looked at her seriously. "I think we've got to do something about this little problem."

"Where does The Doctor go when he needs a Doctor?" Donna queried, genuinely curious.

"Well," The Doctor scratched at the back of his neck, going to the console, once again, pressing buttons. "I've a friend, who's an expert in these matters."

"Yeah?" Donna probed and raised one ginger eyebrow back at him.

"What do you say we pay another visit to Doctor Jones?" As the TARDIS rocked and rolled, The Donna held on tightly and smiled across at The Doctor, who equally smiled back. They were going to meet up with the wonderful Martha again.


	3. Check Up

With wheezing engines, the blue box appeared outside Martha's flat. In a flash she was out the door, to be greeted by the friendly faces of The Doctor and Donna once more.

"Martha Jones," The Doctor beamed.

"Hello again," the UNIT doctor grinned back. And they hugged tightly, making up for lost time.

"How are you, Martha?" asked Donna, when it came her turn to do the hugging.

"I'm fine. Taking the day off. Tom gets back from his trip to Africa today."

"Ah, the fiancé!" The Doctor recalled. "It will be nice to meet him."

"Are you staying long? What brings you here?´ Martha quickly realised The Doctor was not likely to be making a purely social visit. "There's not trouble is there? No alien invasions?"

The Doctor was scratching the back of his head again "Not as such."

Donna spoke up, "He's not well Martha. I've brought him for a check up."

Martha scrutinised the Time Lord with a degree of concern. He did look tired. "Come inside. I'll put the kettle on," she sighed.

The Doctor was soon sat on the couch, a mug of tea in his hand. He looked up, warily, as Martha re-entered the room, a leather bag in hand and Donna in tow. He knew the human doctor had taken his newest companion aside, to discuss him in confidence. He had no doubt in his mind that Donna had fronted up every last detail of his being ill.

Martha plonked her bag down on the coffee table. Seating herself beside the Time Lord, she snapped the bag open, pulling out first, a stethoscope. "So, Mister, been falling asleep spontaneously?" The Doctor unbuttoned his jacket and tugged at his shirt compliantly, letting Martha listen. They both flashed back to the day they first met, at the Royal Hope Hospital. The Doctor had posed as patient in order to undergo his investigation. To this day, Martha still wondered what frame of mind he had been in to willingly admit himself there. She knew the danger he posed, revealing his own physiology.

She wanted to listen to his hearts first, from what she knew of his medical history, it was these that had caused him the most trouble. She herself, had to restart them for him a few times before.

"Deep breaths for me?" Martha requested, moving the cold sound from side of his chest to the other. "Lean forward," She instructed next.

Donna watched the young physician pull up The Doctor's shirt at the back, so she could listen through to her chest from the other side. The room stood silent, apart from the tick of the clock and Martha's simple instructions.

Next, she pulled out a blood pressure cuff, tightening it to his arm. "Have you been eating?" Martha wanted to now, poking a digital thermometer in his ear, while waiting for the readout.

"Of course," The Doctor answered back. Martha noted down her data so far, on a pad of paper and looked at him sternly. "I eat plenty, Martha."

"Donna?"

"It's not often I've seen him eat. I tell him too. He'll bloody disappear soon, if he doesn't work up an appetite."

"Come to the bathroom. I want you to step on the scales."

The Doctor groaned, but stood up to follow the nagging women. Couldn't they leave off about his weight, for once? Sure, he was slim, but, in his opinion, he was well built and fit enough.

"Doctor!" Martha saw The Doctor sway on his feet. The mug he'd been holding slipped fee of his grip, and hot tea coated his front. The mug fell to the ground, shortly followed by the Time Lord himself. Quickly, the women were at his side.

There was a jingle of keys and bang of the front door.

"Martha? I'm home," boomed a man's voice.

"Tom! Help us. We need to get him in a bed."

Tom turned the corner, to see his wife and a red-head lady attempting to lift an unconscious man off the floor. Dropping his suitcase, he immediately went to assist.

"Who is he?" Tom insisted, after helping to dress the strange man into his own pyjamas, which were far too big for him. He had used some cream from Martha's kit to aid the reddening burn coming out from where the drink had splashed. Apparently, this guy preferred his beverages too hot for human consumption.

"He's the Doctor," provided Donna.

"Oh," Tom looked to Martha. "And who is she?" He had never met this redhead in his life.

"Tom, that's Donna. She travels with The Doctor now, like I used to. They've come to us, because The Doctor has gotten ill."

"He's an alien," Tom knew all about The Doctor. He knew about Martha's work for UNIT and that she had treated aliens. He himself was a paediatrician, though for normal humans. All the space stuff was a bit beyond him, but he had learned he had to live with it, if he was going to marry the woman of his dreams.

"Yes, Tom, he is, a sick, alien man, who needs our help."

"Very well," Tom nodded. "It's good to be home." Finally, he got to embrace his fiancé after what had seemed too long of a jaunt, providing health care to children in Africa. It was good to be able to help those that needed it, but he did not want the distance in he and Martha's relationship to take its toll.

"It's good to have you home. I've missed you." They shared a kiss.

Not wanting to intrude on the happy couple's reunion, Donna went to sort herself out a tea in the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"Is he going to be okay?" Donna looked to Martha for answers, when she was joined by the couple again.

"Right now, we'd best leave him to rest, but I don't know. Something is putting all his readings off what is usually normal for him. Whatever it is, I will try my best to get to the bottom of it." Martha was determined. "Have you been anywhere, where he may have picked up something? Any kind of infection?"

"We've been all sorts of places. He seemed fine until after our last trip though, when all he wanted to do was go to bed. But that trip was all harmless fun."

Martha bit her lip. "It could be that he picked up something a while ago. But his body has been in some kind of incubation cycle, taking more time to manifest into symptoms."

"That doesn't exactly narrow anything down."

"I know," worried Martha. "I'm going to take some his blood to UNIT and have it tested," she decided. "I still need to complete the rest of his examination. Leave it to him, to be flaking out half way through a check-up. I'm surprised he even agreed to come here. He must realise this is something quite serious."

"He's taken me back to London." Donna realised. Martha nodded at her.

"If The Doctor knows he is in serious danger, his first thought will be to take his companion back home." Martha made the deduction and Donna realised it was all too true.

"If he had fallen from that ladder, he could have really hurt himself. I would have been stuck."

"Not necessarily. The TARDIS has emergency protocols in place, for such an event. But, I think he was thinking more about later down the line, when you may have truly been trapped without him. He wanted to get help somewhere you would be safe as well."

Donna had a tear in her eye. Things really were very bad.


	4. Get Up

The Doctor woke in a bed that wasn't his own, feeling rather thick-headed. The brief panic hammering his hearts was soon abated however, when he recalled he was at Martha's. For a moment, he considered going back to sleep, but maybe that was rude. Getting up, he quickly realised that he was dressed in somebody else's pyjamas, which was strange, yet not as strange as the way the room seemed to be tipping.

A crash came from the spare room. Tom was the quickest to react, darting for the door.

"Whoa there! Steady on, mate," Tom exclaimed, seeing that in some sort of dizzy spell, the Doctor had knocked the lamp off the bedside cabinet. Broken shards from it were now littered over the floor and The Doctor was sitting in it, slumped against the bed, with his head down.

Registering the new voice, The Doctor turned his gaze up, as a blurry face moved into his eye line. Maybe he would be able to focus more on the person's features if his head would stop pounding. In fact he was feeling quite nauseous with it. He might even..

"Martha! Where are you? Get in here!" Tom called, as the Time Lord emptied is stomach onto the floor.

"Was just getting my kit. If he's awake, I might as well finish checking him out," Martha explained, but once she was at the doorway, she eyed up the scene, "Oh dear." Careful not to cut herself on the broken lamp pieces, she knelt next to The Doctor. "Doctor, can you look at me please?"

The Doctor made a groaning sound, but moved his head to find where Martha's voice was coming from. The extra movement however, made him reel with dizziness. "Hold him up, Tom." Martha reached for the penlight from her bag, shining it in The Doctor's eyes. "He must have hit his head falling earlier. I checked him then and he seemed fine," she bit her lip and continued. "He must have developed a concussion since. This isn't going to help the fact that he already feels unwell. Hopefully it won't mask any other symptoms. You are a difficult one, Doctor,"

"Don't feel well," The Doctor mumbled.

"I know, love." Martha caressed his head. "We'd better get you back into bed, huh?"

Together, Tom and Martha dragged him up.

"What's all this ruckus, then? I can't even make a phone call to Gramps, without you going kaput again!" Donna came storming in, phone in her hand. She wanted to let her grandfather know she was in town with The Doctor, no there wasn't aliens invading again and yes he would see them, but they had some things to sort out first. "Oh, Spaceman, you're bleeding!"

There was indeed several drops of blood spilt over the bedsheets and on the floor, when The Doctor had been heaved safely back on the bed.

"You're right, he's been cut," Martha acknowledged what she hadn't realised earlier. He must have put his hand out to support himself when he fell, but accidently pressed it into one of the lamp shards.

"Stupid lamp bit me," The Doctor whined. Donna looked to Martha, a question in her eyes, wondering if the Doctor had grown mad. Well, madder.

"He's developed a concussion. He's likely to be a bit confused and jumbled up."

"Ow!" The Doctor howled and then hissed, as Martha held a pressure to the cut and then began to clean away at it. Once she was able to examine it properly, she realised that it would probably need a couple of stitches, but only after she'd removed the bit of shard that had got itself thoroughly embedded.

"You've made a mess of this," the young doctor tutted at the Time Lord. "I'm going to need to fix it up a bit for you. Can you tolerate a local?" She was unsure what drugs she could administer to him, with him not being human and all.

The Doctor inspected the injury for himself and quickly wished he hadn't. The sight of blood usually didn't make him the queasy.

"Which one?"

"I've got Lidocaine here," Martha held up a syringe, but The Doctor shook his head.

"Ah, better not," he warned.

"Are you going to be brave?" The Doctor nodded and Martha put the loaded needle back down again.

"Donna, hold his hand."

"I'm here, Spaceman," Donna went to the other side of the bed, so she was out of Martha's way and perched herself with-in easy reach of what quickly became a very tight grasp.

The Doctor was clenching his teeth and gripping Donna's hand against the agony, in an attempt not to yell.

"Almost there," Martha informed, as she made and tied of the last stitch. He'd needed four. The Doctor had tears in his eyes by the time it was all over. His hand still stung from, but it was closed now and no longer had anything lodged in it though, which was a plus. "I'm sorry. I know that wasn't fun. But it's over now." Martha pushed some of The Doctor's hair back where it had become stuck against his clammy forehead. "I bet you're still feeling pretty rough though. Do you think you're going throw up again at all?"

"Might do," The Doctor admitted.

"I'll get a bucket," Tom offered and went to fetch one.

"I don't suppose you feel like having something to eat?" Martha checked. The Doctor needed to keep his strength up. His complexion seemed to green at the thought. "I suppose not. How about some water then, for now?"

"Please?"

"I'll get some," Donna left the room this time.

"Tell me, how exactly are you feeling?" Now that Martha was alone with The Doctor, she took the brief moment, to get an honest evaluation from him. She also took his pulse and his temperature again, for good measure.

"Blergh," was all The Doctor could muster.

"I can imagine," Martha accepted the answer for now. "I hope you won't mind if I take some blood for analysis?" He may have been suffering concussion right now, but they could not forget it was because he was already unwell, that he had fallen in the first place.

"Please," The Doctor asked of her. "I would've run tests myself, in the TARDIS, only I ran the risk of falling unconscious again. I thought it safer if I… get someone else that I trust to do it. I had to keep Donna… safe too. I'm not sure how serious this is, but I wanted to take… her home, just in case? The incident after the ladder was bad enough. If I'd fallen from there, I couldn't have broken… my leg or… anything!"

"I know," Martha spoke and went about drawing the necessary blood. The Doctor elected to look away, still feeling ill. He was thankful when Tom returned with the bucket, then again to Donna when she had a glass of water for him. He didn't actually think he could stomach any, but he used it to rinse his mouth of the sick taste, spitting the mouthful back out into the bucket.

Martha was a touch concerned that The Doctor had seemed slightly out of breath by the time he had finished his brief ramble. He could usually talk a mile a minute without stopping for breath. She took out her stethoscope again. "Might as well take off that shirt," she helped him to get rid of the borrowed and now soiled T-shirt. Tom disposed of it and went get a new one, while Donna got stuck in, clearing the floor of broken lamp, blood and sick.

"That'll do for now." Martha thanked her friend and husband and then made a request, "If I can have a chat with The Doctor, alone now?"

"Sure," Tom left the room, but not before giving his fiancé a quick peck on the forehead.

"It smells rank in here anyway," commented Donna, following.

"When exactly did all of this start?" asked Martha, once she had The Doctor alone.

"We were on Lehium."

"The last planet you and Donna last visited." Martha nodded. She had already been clued up on this by Donna before.

"As the day wore on, I guess I just got exhausted and I thought I could sleep it off. When Donna woke me up, I felt better though. So we were ready to go somewhere else, but that was when I had my first collapse."

"Did it occur to you, that maybe you should have stayed in bed longer?"

"Sort of, but I really did feel fine."

"So you feel fine between these collapses. You've had three now, is that correct?"

"Yes, I think so?"

"You're not breathing quite efficiently."

"There is that."

"Can high concentrations of helium affect Time Lords?"

"Donna and I both took a pill when we… embarked on the planet, to maintain oxygen… levels and prevent gas poi… -soning."

"And that usually works for you?"

"I have a respiratory by-pass… which is usually efficient enough. When I started to feel… tired though, I… took a pill as well, just in case."

"So your oxygen reserves were already failing at that point?"

"I suppose… so."

"Will this work for you?" Martha pulled out a finger clip monitor."

"I… assume so?"

Martha placed the device on his uninjured hand, but wasn't very happy with its read out.

"Your oxygen levels are low, Doctor."

He glanced for himself.

"Oh."

"I think we need to bring them back up."

"Prob... -ably?"

"Have you got any oxygen tanks in the TARDIS?"

"Should be… some… in the… Science… lab?" The Doctor was reeling again.

"Okay!" Martha steadied the Doctor as he passed out for the fourth time. Once she was sure he was comfortable, she got Tom to watch over him, while she made a trip to the TARDIS.


	5. Deep Sleep

Still, Martha kept her TARDIS key on her. She considered it her good luck charm, after it kept her safe, when she walked the earth. Well, in truth, that was not so much luck as it was the perception filter The Doctor had modified for her. Still, the key held sentiment for her. She vividly remembered when the Doctor had gifted to her. 'Frequent flyers privilege,' he had called it -another reward for saving his life yet again. 'One trip' he had promised her, after she resuscitated him from the Plasmivore attack. And well, of course, she had been allowed more than the one trip. She was no longer just a passenger after the incident on the Pentallion. The image of The Doctor screaming from the stasis chamber still haunted her to this day. How amongst all his pain, he had admitted to her his fear, that he would lose control and start killing everyone aboard.

Martha absent-mindedly wiped at a tear, which had formed at the corner of her eye. The Doctor trusted her, to be his Doctor and help him. The first thing she had deal with right now was his declining O2 levels.

He had coped, when they were trapped on the moon. When everyone else, including herself was suffering oxygen starvation, his hearts restarted with Martha's last breath, The Doctor had disabled the MRI before it could explode and wreak havoc. His alien physiology had allowed him to cope for a bit longer in the oxygen depleted environment. She knew now, that was due to his respiratory bypass. The same bypass, which seemed to be failing him at the very moment.

The thing was, she wasn't really sure how it was supposed to work in the first place. How was she supposed to fix it for him? The best thing she could do was treat his symptoms. If she could get his blood oxygen up to normal, maybe it would resolve itself? Unless, there may be much more to this than meets the eye. It was likely she would have to perform a great number more tests on him to come to anything conclusive. And then there was the concussion to deal with. Knowing his usual capacity for healing, she expected this to resolve fairly quickly. But for now, it was making him even more rotten on top of everything else and would likely hinder the data she collected.

The main science lab was spacious, but had equipment a plenty. She selected one of the smaller portable oxygen cylinders for now. It would be easier to carry and she could get Tom help her with one of the heavier ones later if needed. Being from the science laboratory, it did not come with a mask. She wondered why he didn't have oxygen on hand in his medical stocks anyway. For a so called 'Doctor,' he was not the most prepared. She stopped by the med bay anyway, to see if there was a spare mask in there. Otherwise, she would have to improvise. She couldn't afford to be losing precious oxygen to the air around him, when it needed to be going into him.

The med bay was cluttered. Martha had made it her duty, when she was travelling with him to make an effort to keep it tidy in here. She was dismayed to see that he had quickly let it get out of hand again. She noted the machinery, meant for carrying out important tests and examinations. Though she had been in here many a time she was still not clued up with how it all worked, as she had not been given chance to. It was still alien to her and she would feel a lot more comfortable carrying out analysis on The Doctor's samples in the familiarity of her own path lab on UNIT base. After rifling through a few of the cupboards, she came across an item that resembled an oxygen mask enough for her needs. She realised it was probably designed for another species, having extra attachments, but the main bit was to cover the nose and mouth and could be hooked up to the hosing for the oxygen tank. Having everything she needed, she raced back through the TARDIS and out to her flat, darting back into the spare room, where Tom was trying his best to keep The Doctor's airway clear, as even in unconsciousness, his breathing was coming in a broken pattern of wheezing and gasps.

"Martha, finally," Tom acknowledged. He stepped back, letting her in with the equipment. In a series of swift and practised movement she had the mask strapped around his head and the oxygen turned up to full. The mask had to be adjusted, so no air was escaping out any of the extra-terrestrial parts, but soon enough, the pure oxygen was getting into the Doctor and his stats were beginning to climb appropriately.

Martha was unwilling to leave the Doctor's side, instead seated herself directly next to him, so she could keep him constantly monitored. Donna had long since laid down for a nap and Tom had gone about unpacking his things.

Martha was relieved that The Doctor seemed to be getting rest and knew he needed it, but she also wanted him awake and coherent and to make sure he had no adverse effects from his oxygen levels dropping so low. She made the decision to wake him, so she could give him another thorough check-up and then she would let him go straight back to sleep.

"Doctor, wake up." She rubbed at his shoulder. He must have been quite deeply asleep, because he didn't stir. Lifting his eye-lids, she confirmed this. Checking his body temperature and heart-rates again, she noted that he actually seemed to be down much deeper than she expected. He had mentioned healing comas before. Was this what this was? Deciding it to be the most likely conclusion, she realised it was probably a good think and maybe she should just work to help him along.

He can't have had many nutrients to give him the best start in this. She had ordinary saline packs in her kit, but decided to see what nutrients she could get from the TARDIS, that would likely be more catered to a Time Lord's needs. She already knew he needed a higher level of potassium than a human, which was why he always kept the galley stocked full of bananas. His hearts could get into trouble without it. Tom promised to watch over the Time Lord again, while she got what she needed. With pushing so much fluid into him, she realised it was probably a good idea to catheterise him as well.

* * *

When Donna awoke from her nap, she immediately went back in to check on the Doctor. She noticed with dismay that he seemed to be hooked up to a great many more things than before.

"Martha?" She called out, in concern.

Martha came up next to her, rubbing the red-head's arm.

"It's okay. He's in a sort of deep sleep, in order to heal. These are just to speed things along."

"Okay," Donna accepted, but took over sitting in the chair situated next to the bed. She picked up the cloth on the small bedside table and helped by wiping down some of his clammy skin. "What you really need, Spaceman, is a proper shower. You properly reek. When you're awake, that's the first thing you're gonna do, alright?"

A grin bared itself on Martha's lips. The Time Lord was lucky to have so many people watching out for him -luckier, than he likely does realise, much of the time.


	6. Still Ill

Once the TARDIS' provided nutrients began to be absorbed, Martha was astonished at how much The Doctor's healing processes seemed to progress. For starters, she found that she needed to remove the stitched in his hand, as the cut from before was barely distinguishable after a few hours.

When it was clear, The Doctor was beginning to come out of his coma and into a regular sleeping pattern, Martha removed the catheter. The urine he'd produced could be kept for testing later. It was the middle of the night now and anyone else would be getting tired, but Martha, being a Doctor was used to having to catch up on sleep. His pupils were now rapidly moving under his eyelids, indicating he was in a dream state. She dared not remove the oxygen line, but it would need to be changed over soon. Donna and Tom were crashed out in the lounge and would no doubt have been joining the land of Nod soon., had she not got them to retrieve a larger oxygen tank for her, as she needed to remain with The Doctor, should he wake.

Thomas Milligan was in a state of shock upon returning, but decanted the oxygen ready for use. Donna had shown him the way through the depths of the ship. He knew he had to get on with it and help fetch the tank, but now that we was back in the flat, it was beginning to sink in that he's just been a box, that was bigger on the inside.

"Why don't you sit down a moment, love." Martha kissed her fiancé on the head and guided him, so he was sitting on the edge of The Doctor's bed.

"It was bi- bigger, on the inside."

"I know, Tom. I've been inside too." Martha stifled a giggle. Her attention was diverted however, as soon as The Doctor moaned. "Are you waking up now then, Doctor?" He moaned again and then spluttered into a cough. "Your oxygen's just about run dry there, Doctor. I'm about to change it over for you. You just keep on taking deep breaths."

"Yeah," acknowledged The Doctor, followed by more coughing. Martha was relieved that he was responding to her and didn't seem to be showing too many adverse effects from his respiratory collapse in unconsciousness, but the coughing was worrying her. She took out her stethoscope as soon as the oxygen line was re-fixed and listened to his chest again. "I thought that sleep was going to heal you all the way, Doctor. Something is still wrong here. Donna, would you help me ease him up?"

With Donna's help, Martha got the Doctor propped up with several pillows. The change in position, couple with gentle rubs to his back seemed to ease the coughing significantly.

"I want you to have something to eat and no arguing." Martha was insistent. "You can have whatever you like and we'll get it for you, but it's important you keep your strength up. You are welcome to have a shower if you want, it might help make you feel a bit fresher, and I know Donna's been complaining about your smell."

The Doctor tossed Donna a scornful look, but then poked his tongue out at her "Can I have a banana?"

"Is that all?" Martha was glad he had an appetite, but she would be happier if had a proper meal. "How about Tom slices up one for you on toast with melted butter and honey?"

"That does sound quite nice," The Doctor admitted. "Can I have that please?"

"Tom?"

"Right away."

The Doctor munched on the toast quickly, but didn't manage to finish it, claiming that he was full.

"You don't feel nauseous at all?"

"Nope. I'm just full."

Martha used her penlight to check his eyes again.

"Well looks like your concussion has been healed by your sleep. That's one thing at least." She reached into her kit again. "I'm going to take your blood pressure and if it's satisfactory, you can get up and freshen up. You could do with a shave too. That coma seems to have sped up your hair growth."

The Doctor rubbed his chin and frowned.

"Remember to halve it," The Doctor reminded Martha, as she measured his blood pressure, keen to be out of bed.

"I know, Doctor. I am aware you're not human," Martha shook her head at him "Well that looks okay. A little on the low side though. I want you to take it easy. You can have a shower, but then its rest again. You don't have to be in bed though. You're welcome to chill out on the couch and watch telly, or we can put a film on. I won't have you doing anything strenuous until we figure out exactly what is making you ill."

"Okay, Doctor Jones," The Doctor replied and pushed his blankets out of the way.

"Easy does it now," Martha warned The Doctor not to get up too quickly. With his blood pressure still on the low-side, he was bound to feel a bit dizzy.

"Oh, I'm seeing sparkles!" The Doctor seemed quite excited by the notion.

"Yeah, that's a not a good thing, Dunce," Donna scolded.

"Just stand there a moment, until it's passed," Martha instructed.

The Doctor blinked until his vision became clear again. "Ready for that shower!" he beamed.

* * *

"Here's your towel. There's some shower gel you can use," Martha pointed to a bottle of Tom's.

While they were in the bathroom, she had got him to step on the scales and was surprised to see he was heavier than what she'd expected for his build -though he was still more underweight than she would have liked. Hopefully while he was here, they would get a good few more feeds into him.

Turning the flow on for The Doctor, Martha tested the water. The Doctor's temperature had decreased almost alarming during his brief coma, but had risen again, to near what was normal for him. Still, he usually ran quite a bit lower than a human's, so she ensured the water was cooler than usual, so he'd be comfortable. "Leave the door unlocked and shout if you feel the least bit dizzy. When you're finished, it's to the sofa with you and we'll get you back on the oxygen. Don't take too long, or I'll be coming in to check on you."

"I'll be fine. It's just a shower."

"Even so, you're not one hundred percent at the moment and you need to be careful."

The Doctor shut the door. Soon, the noises filling the flat were all but the spray of water and The Doctor belting out a Queen number.

_'Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time_  
_I feel alive and the world it's turning inside out Yeah!_  
_I'm floating around in ecstasy'_

"Oh, won't he shut up?" Donna moaned. She was trying to listen to the news. These days, she made more of an effort to know what was happening on Earth, when she wasn't around.

_'So don't stop me now don't stop me_  
_'Cause I'm having a good time having a good time'_

"At least he's perked up a bit though?" Tom was relieved that their guest seemed more fit, than when he had walked first walked in.

"I'm not sure how long it will last," Martha seemed doubtful.

"He does seem to bounce from fine one minute, to awful the next," Donna accepted.

_'I'm a shooting star leaping through the skies_  
_Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity_  
_I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva_  
_I'm gonna go go go_  
_There's no stopping me'_

"How much longer do you think he'll be in there?" Tom asked. He wanted a shower too, before he went to bed himself. The flight had left him jet-lagged and exhausted.

_'I'm burning through the sky yeah!_  
_Two hundred degrees_  
_That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit_  
_I'm trav'ling at the _*coughing*_ speed of light_  
_I wanna make a supersonic man out of you'_

"I'm not sure how much showering he is actually getting done. He should really be resting," Martha got up to intervene.

_'Don't _*cough*_ stop me now_  
_I'm having such a good time_  
_I'm having a' _*cough*

"Oi!" Martha yelled and banged at the bathroom door. "I'm glad you're feeling better and having a good time, but I'm going to have to stop you, Freddie. You're supposed to be conserving oxygen."

The melancholic tunes ceased. Then a few moments later the water shut off. Silence.

"Martha, I think you'd better come in here?" a voice of consternation echoed from the bathroom.

"Doctor?" sudden concern swam through her gut and she let herself in.

The Doctor was still standing in the shower and had pulled the curtain away, so his face was peeking out. Worry lined his features.

"Doctor, what is it?"

"I think I've a new symptom for you. That wasn't there before." Pulling the shower curtain away a bit, he revealed his torso. It was clear, he had only just began to work the gel into a lather that would need to be rinsed off. Underneath the suds however, there was quite an obvious discoloration to his skin. A number of green patches had made a worrying appearance.

Martha grabbed the spare towel on the railing, handing it to the Doctor, so he could protect his decency. Martha then pulled the curtain away completely and got the Doctor to step out of the shower and sit on the toilet with the lid down, so she could examine him.

"I've never seen anything like this," stated Martha.

"Me, neither," the Doctor winced, as Martha probed along his ribs.

"Is that painful?" she questioned.

"No. You didn't hurt me," The Doctor clarified, "But I believe I'm getting a headache."

"Are you feeling dizzy again?"

There was a knock on the door.

"Everything alright in there?" Tom asked.

The Doctor was coughing again, which quickly turned into a wheeze.

"No, I don't think so. Can you get the oxygen for us, please?" Martha requested.

"Yep."

By the time Tom had lugged the oxygen into the bathroom, The Doctor was unconscious and Martha was attempting to keep him righted, on top of the toilet. Tom fitted the oxygen mask over The Doctor's face took over supporting him, so Martha could get a reading of his pulse.

"You can't be going to sleep on the loo, Doctor?" Donna had come to spy from the doorway. The Time Lord certainly looked a sight, naked on the toilet, if it weren't for the towel across his lap.

Tom rubbed his knuckles into the wet shoulder, until The Doctor began to stir.

"Tom?" spoke The Doctor, to the man directly in his eye line.

"I see you didn't finish your shower?" Tom motioned to The Doctor's soapy skin. With a damp cloth, he helped to wipe The Doctor off. So, are you a little green man, under this human disguise?" Tom chuckled, as the soap washed away.

"That is spreading." Martha noted. "Doctor, I am going to take a swab of this." Martha prepared another sample and made a call to UNIT. Another of UNIT's medical personnel would be over shortly with extra equipment for Martha to use and to fetch The Doctor's bio samples for analysis.

Tom helped The Doctor to finish getting cleaned up and wrapped him in his own green bathrobe. The Doctor was then made to lay on the couch with the oxygen kept on fall blast. They received no complaint from him. Martha had used a marker pen to circle the Doctor's skin abnormalities and monitor its progress across his torso.

"Are you experiencing any burning or itching from this?" Martha asked The Doctor, trying to understand the new symptom.

"No," The Doctor shook his head. He didn't like speaking into an oxygen mask. "It's just there."

Donna changed the channel on the telly for him and found a program they could both enjoy. '_Myth Busters'_ was on and the science mixed with humour was amusing enough for them both.


	7. Spreading

George Hunt was one of UNIT's most recent medical interns and was often left with the task of simply fetching things - especially at the odd hours. It was a start though and he'd work his way up the ladder eventually. The task he had been appointed this time however, was not so menial. In fact, he considered it an honour. Every member of UNIT had read The Doctor's file. He was something of a legend. On this faithful night, he would get to meet the alien, in person. Well, hopefully. He had simply been told to collect some medical samples, but they were supposedly The Doctor's, so the Time Lord would probably be at Doctor Jones' flat. Everyone knew she had traveled with him. But many weren't sure on the details. He hoped that she would at least share some of her stories, the more he worked alongside her.

He could barely contain his excitement, as he pulled up in the UNIT issued armoured vehicle from UNIT's medical department. It had a cargo bay in the back, for transporting anything that should not be in the hands of public, such as confidential medical samples. It could even double as ambulance, with room for even the most high priority alien patients if need be. This was supposed to be a routine sample collection though, so he doubted any that the latter would be necessary. With deep anticipating breaths, he rang the doorbell and waited on the step, clutching a refrigerated storage bin.

* * *

By the time the myth had been declared 'busted', The Doctor was sound asleep. Whether that was due to his own accord, or if he'd passed out again, no one could be sure, but at least he was getting rest. Martha made sure to check his stats at regular intervals and note them down. She also monitored the spread of what she assumed to be a kind of rash over his chest. It was slowly inching itself wider and was darkening where is veins were. It was almost fascinating to see how for herself just how some of his circulatory system was mapped out. Whatever was happening to him, however was clearly not good, or natural. Martha was thankful when she heard the doorbell ring.

"That'll be George," she told those of the flat's occupants, who were conscious and went to answer it.

"Doctor Jones," George saluted. Martha still wasn't quite used to that, but it was nice to be looked up to.

"Come on in, George," Martha invited.

The site that greeted George, in Martha's front room, was that everybody seemed to be sitting about. Slumped in an overstuffed arm chair, was the man George knew to be Martha's fiancé, from the photos stuck up back in UNIT's offices. He was aware that Tom took regular stints in Africa to aid children in need there. A few of Martha's photos included a great many African children in various states of health surrounding the paediatrician, smiling. Lounged in another chair, was red headed woman, who he knew was involved back in the incident with ATMOS and the Sontarans. She was known to be the current companion of The Doctor. He almost missed the Time Lord, whose gangly frame just about hung of the end of a fairly long sofa. The blanket would've covered him, if it weren't for the recognizably spiked brown hair sticking out from the top. As George moved closer, he realised that an oxygen cylinder sat next to him, the line feeding under the blanket also. Everyone looked tired, but it appeared The Doctor was the only one asleep.

"Is he alright?" George pried, out of concern. Everything he had read about The Doctor portrayed a great hero, but he looked nothing of the sort at present.

"Not really, George," Martha sighed. "In fact, he's quite sick, but we don't know what's wrong." She handed The Doctor's bio samples over, looking forlorn. "I need these analysed straight away - with every possible test run on them."

"Are you sure you don't want to just bring him in, Doctor Jones?"

Martha looked as though she had seriously considered it. "That fact that he came to me, means he trusts me to look after him. I do not want to breach that trust in any way - if he had wanted to be in UNIT's care that is where he would have gone first. He doesn't like hospitals at the best of times, so the fact that he is seeking out help at all, is a big deal for him and a sign he is taking this seriously. I do not want to push him, however and make him go anywhere he does not want to. We're managing his condition here safely. If he is to suddenly decline however, I will need the UNIT ambulance despatched."

"Very well," George accepted. "Is there anything else we can be doing though?"

"I could use a portable scanner?" Martha requested.

"I'll get one from the vehicle," George nodded and returned to the vehicle, with the entrusted samples in hand.

"Martha?" a bleary eyed Tom got the attention of his partner and indicated to Time Lord, who was beginning to stir in his slumber.

Kneeling down, Martha tugged the blanket away, slightly, to see the Doctor was indeed still asleep, but not very restfully. He was beginning to moan.

"Doctor, you're alright. You're dreaming." But Martha wasn't so sure it was just that. If he was in pain, it would likely be infiltrating his dreams. It was probably best they wake him up, so he could talk to her. He was really starting to moan quite loudly now.

"Spaceman?" Donna was kneeling down now too. She could see the distress on his features. It hurt her to see him like this. She took his hand in hers and rubbed it gently. "Martha, I thought his hand had healed when during the coma?"

"It did," Martha looked to Donna, questionably. The healing coma should have healed a lot of things. Namely whatever was making him ill in the first place. Why then, was he still so sick? That was the million dollar question. Donna just moved The Doctor's hand over to Martha's. "Donna, it was his other hand that got cut, and it was the inside of his palm, not the back." Martha was speaking slowly, in order to explain, but also because her mind was now racing ten steps ahead of what was actually happening.

"This is a new one then? When did it happen? We've been watching him the whole time." Donna was getting into a state of confused panic.

"I don't think it is new, Donna. I should have given a more thorough examination before. I've seen his hand like this before - the same exact injury. It happened back on Messaline."

"With Jenny?" Realisation dawned on Donna. Just then, The Doctor body began to thrash and he began screaming.

"Okay, Doctor, you have to wake up now." Martha's voice remained calm.

"I've got that scanner you wan- OH MY GOD! WHAT'S HAPPENING TO HIM?" George had chosen that moment to arrive back in the flat, almost dropping the priceless piece of xeno-medical equipment, in the process.

"Shh.. quiet now. George, we are being very calm. This is just a nightmare and The Doctor is going to wake up now, aren't you Doctor? Whatever you are experiencing, is not real. You've got a fever, probably from an infection, that you likely picked up on Messaline, through a small cut you received. It has been sitting in your blood and some kind of incubation and now it wreaking havoc on your body. George here is going to take tests to confirm and we will work out how to fix you. But, right now, Doctor, all you have to do is wake up for me. Can you do that?"

If The Doctor could hear her, it didn't seem to be having any sort of effect, except for making him thrash more violently and scream louder. His weakened body could not take this kind of toll. Already, his hearts' rates had increased significantly and his O2 stats were struggling to be maintained.

Donna noticed just how calm Martha was trying to be, in not wanting Spaceman to panic. To Donna though, it seemed too late for that. She didn't think she had ever seen him panic like this. And well, desperate times, called for desperate measures.

"Wake up!" Donna bellowed, and slapped him.

"Donna?!" Martha was shocked by what the red head had done. The room had become silent. Everyone looked back to The Doctor. He was still; he wasn't thrashing and wasn't screaming. In fact, his eyes had snapped open.

"Oh, ouch," the Doctor grumbled and reached up to rub his reddened cheek and then take off the oxygen mask, but his movements were sluggish. Martha was quicker.

"Oi, leave that on, Mister. You need that. It's just oxygen."

"Don't like it," he complained, but Martha just chuckled at him.

"Are you hurting anywhere?" Martha asked and he reached to rub his cheek again. "Apart from where Dona slapped you," she said, chuckling again.

"Slapped me?" The Doctor's wide eyes moved to Donna.

"You were having a nightmare, Dumbo. We had to wake you up somehow."

"You were getting pretty distressed, Doctor." Tom was standing back from the scene, burly arms folded, assessing the situation. "What were you dreaming about?"

"Don't remember."

Donna eyed him skeptically. "Is that really you 'Don't remember', or just Time Lord Talk for you 'Don't wanna talk about it'?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, but then winced and hissed, trying to turn over slightly, with stunted results.

"Okay, Doctor, I can see you're in pain, so you had better tell me where." Martha ordered.

"Argh," The Doctor groaned, "Abd- ..omen". He was panting now, his breathing becoming rather ineffective. He was still trying to turn onto his side.

"Keep still for me, Doctor. I'm going to have a feel." Martha moved the blanket right off him and pushed his clothing out of the way, so she could examine him. Immediately, she gasped though, when he skin was exposed. The skin discolouration was spreading faster than before.

The Doctor shivered when the cold air hit his tummy. The movement just made him hurt more. He knew Martha was going to have to palpitate his abdomen, he wasn't sure if he could take it. "Just relax, now Doctor." Noticing how susceptible to cold, he seemed to be at present, she rubbed her hands together to try warm them up. "Tom, get me some gloves from the kit?" She wasn't sure she should be having skin to skin contact with The Doctor, when he was in this state anymore.

Once Martha had snapped on a pair, she began to probe. The Doctor keened and whined. "Keep breathing in that oxygen, Doctor, nice and slowly." He couldn't afford to get into more respiratory trouble right now. "George, are you still here?"

"Yes, mam." George spoke quietly. He had paled at what he was witnessing.

"You should have left by now! What part of I need his test results 'Straight away' didn't you understand?" Martha snapped.

"I was getting the scanner you wanted?" George shakily handed over the device. Martha felt immediately guilty for yelling. She really was trying hard to keep face, but her resolve was beginning to crack. "Thank you, George. I will need this. But now, I need you to go."

"Yes, mam." He answered and left quickly to deliver the urgent samples to UNIT's labs.

Happy, to have something more efficient in her hands, Martha powered up the portable scanner, especially designed for alien species. She was able to take images from various densities of his different systems to examine. She could then remotely send those to UNIT from the device, for a second opinion. She had hoped the scanner would provide her with a bit more hope, but it really did, was show just how significant the extent was of the infection. She didn't know a lot about Time Lord's, but from what she had learned, she was pretty sure all insides shouldn't be turning a nasty shade of green.

"Whatever has infected you, Doctor, it is spreading fast. I think that may be due to your now rapidly increasing temperature. If we're going to slow the progression of the infection, we've got to cool you down. Now, I've got some gel ice packs, here in my kit. They should help. I know you can't take aspirin, but is there any other drug we can use to reduce your temperature?"

"Not.. on Earth," The Doctor managed.

"These will have to do then. Martha snapped one of the packs, to activate its cooling properties and placed it to The Doctor's forehead. Instantly, he screamed. "I know, it probably feels uncomfortable, but it's necessary. You'll begin to feel better soon, I promise." Martha felt awful, watching him like this, but as a human doctor from Earth, who generally practiced on other human patients, with human drugs, she really was doing the best she could do, to help her alien friend.


	8. Surface of Things

After the excruciating icing, The Doctor's fever had balanced a little, though it was still above normal. Martha would keep an eye on it. If it started to come up again, they might have to resort to more drastic measures. Hopefully they had slowed the progression of the infection for now - if it was an infection. She took his hand in hers again. It was clammy and shaky. The Doctor seemed to be stirring a little.

"Mar.. tha?" He spluttered.

"Shush now, Doctor. You just rest. I'm just examining this scar of yours."

As she recalled, the soldiers had dragged him over to that machine and forced his hand inside. She remembered the worry that clenched in her heart as it began to hurt him. It had taken a small tissue sample, from which the DNA was extrapolated and accelerated in order to create Jenny, The Doctor's daughter.

But the initial wound had been superficial - barely an abrasion to the skin. It had bled a little though. And they hadn't exactly had the time to clean or dress it. Also, it hadn't been the most cleanest or environments in those tunnels. And then Martha had been the one to go above ground -even falling in that mud - if it had been toxic? She had checked the readings from the surface before going out. It had seemed fine enough. But what if she had brought something back with her? She definitely came in to contact with The Doctor after that. They had hugged and everything. Was all this, her fault?

"Got you a cup of tea?" Donna came up next to Martha, with a steaming mug.

"Thanks," Martha accepted it with a smile of gratitude, but put it down, to check The Doctor's readings once more.

"Don't suppose he's doing any better?" Donna hoped.

"Not really," Martha admitted and picked the tea back up, having done all she could for her patient for now. "Cooling him down has slowed the decline. I won't know any more until UNIT calls me with his test results."

"Well, you lot are good there. I'm sure it won't be much longer," Donna tried to be positive.

"Donna?" Martha's tone changed.

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember when we met up again, on Messaline, just before we found The Source?"

"Of course, you were filthy!" Donna exclaimed. "Hope you were able to get that grime out of your clothes."

"I had them laundered," commented Martha. "What I wanted to talk about though, was the possibly that I may have-" Martha covered her mouth a moment and blinked away a few tears. "I may have infected him with some sort of toxin, or contagion from the planet's surface."

"Oh, Martha," Donna wrapped an arm around her friend. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have known that would happen. I mean, you're fine, aren't you?"

"I feel fine, yeah. I got some scrapes of my own that day, when the tunnel collapsed. It could easily have entered my bloodstream too. I doubt anything that could put down a Time Lord like this, would have an even longer incubation cycle in a human. It must have only affected him."

"Well, that's something good, I suppose."

"The Hath soldier warned me not to go to the surface. He was right. That clever Hath saved my life up there, when I fell in the mud hole, he got me out, but not before it could suck him under. I should never have gone up there." Martha was shaking her head now. She partly wished she had never been with them at all on that trip. Enough awful things had happened that day. Without her, they could have avoided all this mess, on top of things."

"Well, it's happened, Martha. And we have to deal with it." Donna provided a realistic approach.

"Martha?" The Doctor choked out from his laid up position on the couch. He should really be back in a bed. "S'not your fault"

"Hey, I told you. You should be resting."

"Please don't feel guilt-" The Doctor was cut off by his own gasp, as he began to wheeze.

"Focus on breathing deeply, Doctor." Martha was checking The Doctor's pulse. "You don't need to worry about anything, except trying to relax, got that? If you'd like, I can give you a sedative?"

"No. No sedatives." The Doctor stated, firmly. "Maybe something …for the pain …though?"

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I don't know what pain killers are safe for you." Martha cupped her palm to The Doctor's face, partly to help calm him, but also to gauge his temperature.

"Got Time Lord drugs …in the TARDIS."

Martha's face lit up.

"Really? We could have done with some of those before, when we were trying to lower your temperature!"

"Couldn't think …straight then," The Doctor justified.

"Can you tell me how to find them?"

"In Med Bay- YARGH!" The Doctor broke off, only to be turning onto his side again, cradling his abdomen. His face was contorted in pain.

"Doctor?" Martha attempted to get the stricken Time Lord's attention. "Listen to me. Where in the Med Bay? Where, exactly, are your pain killers? What are their names? And what doses can you take?"

Somewhere between gasps and howling cries, The Doctor managed to spit out that there was a box of medications on the top shelf of the main medicines cabinet. There should already be a drug loaded into a gun-type object, with a set dose. Martha was hesitant to leave The Doctor in his present state. Tom had gone to sleep. Donna claimed she was capable of fetching the drugs quickly though, so she needn't wake her exhausted fiancé.

Martha was thankful to have Donna there with her. She was trying to keep The Doctor from writhing from pain. Any additional stress was just to aid in raising his temperature. She got some more icy items from the freezer to place on his body. She tried to talk him through the pain, while taking more scans to see if anything had changed. She was disappointed to notice his kidneys were beginning to fail.

"Okay." Martha thought a moment. "Not good."

"Mar-tha?" The Doctor couldn't open his eyes against the pain, but wanted to know what else wasn't good. He was already in near-unbearable pain.

"Doctor, what would you think, about receiving the rest of your care at UNIT? I'll still be your Doctor, but we've better resources there to deal with things if they continue to turn south for you."

"You'd still …be my doctor?"

"I promise." Martha assured.

"Okay," that was The Doctor's last word before he passed out. But it was enough for Martha. She had his permission to transport her to UNIT's medical unit, where hopefully he could receive better treatment.

"It's gonna be okay, Spaceman!" Donna burst into the flat with the medicines stowed into a box.

"He's out of it, Donna."

"Oh."

"Before he fell asleep though, he told me we can over him to UNIT and take care of him there."

"Oh, thank goodness," Donna clasped a hand to her chest. "I mean, you're doing a great job an' all, but surely, someone as sick as him, should be in a more hospital sort of environment."

"He will be soon. I wanted to avoid this if possible. He hates hospitals. He is likely to get more stressed out being there, but he obviously realises he is sick enough, to warrant being there, or he wouldn't have agreed."

Martha went into the kitchen to make her phone call to UNIT. An on call team would be there ready to receive The Doctor and the ambulance vehicle dispatched immediately. Estimated Time of Arrival should be about fifteen minutes. She also wrote out a note for Tom, for when he woke, to find everyone had gone, that they had taken The Doctor to UNIT and he could reach her on her phone.

The Doctor had roused again, before the ambulance got there, in immense pain, but she was able to administer the drug he had told her about, that seemed to do him wonders, as he was able to slip into a relaxed sleep. However, there didn't seem to be a huge amount of Time Lord-friendly drugs in the box. Leave it to him, not keep his personal medical supplies fully stocked. She would just have to cross her fingers that it would be enough.


End file.
